“You.” His voice lashed out to one of the women on the staircase. “Join her. Teach my wife how I like to be pleasured.”
Mom jerked back from him. “Why do you have to be so vicious?”
“You’re free to leave anytime you wish.” My father sneered down at her, motioning to the grand doors. “But you’llnevertake him with you.”
My mother started to crawl away from him, toward the door, sobbing.
“And know this,” he called after her, voice thick with cruel satisfaction. “If you leave today, I’ll never let you back in.”
She paused and looked back, not at him but at the staircase and the second floor, where my bedroom was. She thought I was up there, reading my books, tucked safely away.
But I wasn’t. I had snuck down the back staircase like I sometimes did, wanting to hear why there was so much loud laughter downstairs.
Dad always said it was good to be naughty.
“I’ll fight you,” my mother swore, voice shaking with fury. “He’s my son as much as yours. Courts care about a mother’s rights.”
My father yanked the other woman onto him, his hand twisted in her hair, his head tilting back in pleasure.
“You’re anobody.” His voice was thick with arrogance. “You havenothingwithout me. I’ll bury you in court fees.”
And then?—
“I hope you took a good look at his face this morning because you’ll never see him again.”
She flinched like he had struck her.
Then, without another word, she climbed to her feet, turned, and walked out.
And I never saw her again.
My fingers dig into the wood, breath ragged. My father was a monster. And the first rule I’veswornby since the day I left his estate and never looked back was this:In every situation, do the opposite of what he would do.
I release my grip on the doorframe, pulse roaring in my ears.
Fuck what anyone in my congregation thinks. Fuck the whispers. Fuck if it gets back to the bishop.
She ran out in tortured tears.
And I let her go.
Iwill notlet that be the end of it.
I take off running after her, ashamed of how long it’s taken me to move.
But no matter how many alleyways and streets I sprint down, I can’t find her.
I’m too fucking late.
Another sin to add to the infinite list.
I laugh bitterly as I walk, defeated, back to the church. Let’s be honest.
I was damned the moment I spurted out of that bastard’s cock.
FOUR
MOIRA